


Our Lives In Music

by afteriwake



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Music helps heal, and a special piano brings about a change in their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Lives In Music

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **tasteslikemiso** , who I used two prompts for: Hitsugaya/Hinamori, "we have a map of the piano" and Aizen/Hinamori, "sad like the echo of a song."

_”What is that, Shiro-chan?”_

_He looked at it, then walked around it. Pausing at the front, he pushed on one of the white bars and a lovely sound came out. “I don’t know, but…it makes music.”_

_“Maybe someone else knows?” she said, and before he could reply she was off to find a neighbor and ask. Twenty minutes later she came back with an answer. “Shiro-chan, it’s a piano!”_

_“I know why someone would leave a piano in the trash,” he said, moving his hands across the keys. Some bars let out beautiful notes, but others gave no sound, and a few sounded like a cat screeching. “It’s broken.”_

_“We can fix it, though, can’t we?” she asked._

_He looked at her, and then sighed. “Let’s see if we can figure out what everything does, first.”_

_She went over and hugged him, and he pushed her off of him, scowling, but she was smiling. She loved doing projects with Shiro-chan, and even though he was fresh out of the academy and she had already settled into the 5th Division a bit, causing distance between them, the chance to reconnect was well worth it._

She sat down at the piano and touched a key. If she remembered correctly, it had been one of the broken keys. She had fixed it, in fact. Or maybe it was the one to the left? She wasn’t sure anymore. It had been so long since she and Hitsugaya had fixed it, and so many other thoughts and memories clouded her mind that she wasn’t sure of those memories anymore.

He stood in the corner watching. It had taken a long time for them to be comfortable enough to be in the same room, after the Winter War and all of the pain she went through. They had spoken when she had been released from the 12th Division’s labs, but his guilt had far outweighed the comfort she was hoping to find. This time, the blinders had been off, and as she had healed she knew it was a trick on Aizen’s part that had caused him to do what he did.

It took many months, and actually included her yelling at him and beating him in the head with her sandal, for him to understand she didn’t blame him. Once the sore spots on his head healed, he sat down and talked to her, their first real conversation in six months. He laid his guilt bare, laid out his anger and everything else for her to see, and she gave him his absolution, gave him the peace he needed. It wasn’t her place to keep it from him when she knew, deep down, that it wasn’t his fault. The last three months had been spent strengthening their relationship, getting close again, and now they were comfortable again.

Today Hitsugaya and she had gone back to the piano, which had sat in his quarters, untouched since long before the Winter War. Probably since his assignment to the real world after Aizen’s betrayal. She didn’t ask, because it really didn’t matter. Well, it did, in a way. It was out of tune from disuse. She looked at him, and then touched another key.

“The wires need tightening,” he said gruffly, unfolding his arms and pushing away from the wall.

“Can you fix it?” she asked, turning on the bench to look at him.

He huffed slightly. “Of course I can. Did you forget I did it in the first place?”

She smiled at him, and she saw the tension ease out of him, just a bit. Enough that he wasn’t ramrod straight. He came up behind her and touched a key himself. She moved to the side, and he started to touch more keys. She watched as he touched the white keys, working his way down until he had to lean over in front of her, then back up, touching the black keys this time. “You’re right. It’s out of tune.”

“We can fix it,” he said, straightening up again. 

She smiled more brightly. He wanted to include her in fixing something that meant so much to both of them, even though it resided in his quarters. A long time ago she would venture to his quarters early in the evening just to play, and they would talk. It had been good, until Aizen had come and ruined it all by stabbing her in the chest.

She nudged Hitsugaya a bit, then positioned herself in the middle of the bench after he got up. She lovingly caressed the keys and began to play, not caring if it was out of tune. She had taught herself to write music for the piano years and years ago, and in the nine months since the Winter War ended she found herself writing songs, practicing them on any piano she could get her hands on, any piano but theirs. Now it was time to show him the song.

Her fingers tread lightly across the keys, and while the notes weren’t perfect she could tell he was following the music well enough. It was a bittersweet piece, and in it she had channeled all her feelings towards Aizen: the adoration she had had for him, and the naiveté that had made her think it was love; the confusion he had left her with, and all the unanswered questions; the distance he had created between her and others, and the distance she added to it; the triumph of her return to fight against him, and the pain he put her through; the sadness that it all went so horribly wrong, and the hope that, eventually, all would be well again.

When she was done she shut her eyes and waited for a response. What she got was Hitsugaya playing a counterpoint melody, and she quickly moved off the bench. He paused long enough to get on the bench himself, and began to play. His song started angry, keys pressed hard and sounds coming out that she could tell was his guilt, but then it mellowed into something sad, just like hers, and ended on a lighter note. She had forgotten he could write and play just as well as she could. Then he stopped and moved to the side to let her sit down again. “I think they could both fit together,” he said quietly.

“I think so too,” she said with a smile. “Start yours first.”

He began to play, and then after a moment she brought her melody in. For the next few minutes the sound that came out of the piano, the song that they combined, it was perfect despite the piano being out of tune. When she finished her part they both let their fingers remain on the keys lightly, until he reached over and clasped her left hand in his right. She squeezed it and smiled at him and he grinned back, just a bit. “I think we should write this song now before we forget it,” he said.

“That’s a good idea,” she said, loosening her grip and beginning to get up. But when she rose he tightened his grip and she stopped, going back on the bench. “What is it?”

“I have missed spending time with you,” he said, looking down. “I almost let him take away our friendship. And there is more to us than just friendship.” She laughed slightly, and his head snapped up, an accusatory glare in his eyes. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not laughing, honest,” she said, letting go of his hand and touching his face. “I was just hoping you’d say something like that for a very long time. I may have been…infatuated…with him, but he never cared. You did. You always have. And I care about you, too.” She leaned in and kissed him softly. When she pulled back his eyes were shut and his lips just slightly parted. “We should set that song down to paper now. Is that a good idea?”

He smiled, a real, genuine smile, one that lit up his face. She hadn’t seen that smile in so long. And when he opened his eyes, she saw sparkling turquoise eyes staring back at her. “Yes. I think that is a very good idea.”

“Good.” Then she let go and they got up, pulling the paper out from inside the bench, and going to his desk to begin to work. This was a good beginning for the next chapter of their relationship, and she was glad that all those years ago they had decided to work on that piano, because music was a wonderful tool to heal and inspire and help someone move on.


End file.
